She didn’t hesitate for a second, making my dick twitch as I watched her come right to me, looking like a sex kitten with that strip of black velvet wrapped around her neck.
That little fuck-me choker.
I couldn’t wait to slam my dick inside her while she wore that and only that.
I couldn’t wait to fill my hands with her tits. Hear her beg for my cock.
A thousand fantasies flashed through my mind by the time she came to me, a playful look dancing in her eyes as she stood close, caged between my legs, her gaze switching back and forth between me and my package for a few seconds.
But then it stayed for good in my lap and I had smirk, watching color rise to her cheeks as she slowly formed her palm against my swollen cock, spreading her fingers to fully accommodate my size in her hand.
A little breath of air escaped her lips as they parted, and the thrill in her smile was visible as I hardened in her palm, all my blood rushing to where she was touching me, because fuck me, this already felt so good. And surreal. For Christ’s sake, I had Holland Maxwell petting my hard cock, looking so unabashedly excited by it, fully oblivious to the torture she was already putting me through.
“Stroke it,” I instructed.
Again, she obliged without hesitation.
And as she did, I watched her get immediately aroused, her throat moving as she swallowed, and her lips flushing red before my eyes. Her nipples were already stiff but they pebbled even tighter, straining against the cotton of her dress as she discovered just how hard I could get for her.
I was a steel fucking pipe by the time she looked up at me, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she asked, “Does that feel good?”
I gave her a look for being coy.
“You know the answer to that,” I said, watching her tits bounce directly in my eye line as she continued stroking me over my pants. I let the soft movement put me in a trance for a few seconds before moving my hands up her body, pushing the straps of her dress off her shoulders and peeling the cotton down so I could finally see what I’d forced myself to only look at last night. And as soon as I did, I was cursing a mile a minute in my head.
Because holy Christ, those tits were fucking mouthwatering.
They were full and heavy, and so impossibly goddamned perky I wanted to slap them. Squeeze them. Mold them around my cock and fuck them till I had them streaked in my cum. They were free of tan lines as well—an observation that raised a few questions I was forced to ignore as Holland’s breathy voice stirred me from my state.
“Can I take it out?”
I blinked, taking a moment to turn my focus from her hypnotizing breasts to her doe eyes as she requested permission to free my cock.
I wet my lips.
“Take it out,” I nodded, watching her undo my belt and take it upon herself to get on her knees.
All on her own. Because she was so eager.
So fucking adorable.
I combed my fingers through her soft hair, watching every second of her expression as she unzipped my pants and tugged them down. Her lashes fluttered when she found my erection pressed against my navy boxer briefs, and for a moment, with her mouth parted, she just stared.
But then she smoothed her hand over it and looked up at me.
“Can I suck on it?” she asked.
Jesus fuck.
“Of course you can,” I murmured, in disbelief of how perfect she was. How perfect she looked all wide-eyed and focused as she gently stretched my boxers off my cock.
My abs tensed under my shirt once she had every inch of me resting heavily in her hands, and my breathing grew shallow as she stared at my swollen tip, wrapped her fingers around my shaft, and instinctively started to pump. Slowly first, but then a little faster. Her glossy pink mouth drew close—close enough for me to feel her warm breath on my head—but she didn’t touch her mouth to me just yet.
“You’re killing me, Holland.”
“I’m sorry,” she said fast, a nervous laugh bubbling from her lips. “I’ve just never done this before.”
“Come again?”